Throw The Roses

On this stage. In my black suit and blue tie. I bow to sign my respect and show that I’m done. They scream, whistle, and shout my name. They cheer me on like a cancer patient beating cancer. Showing their respect for my art. I see them throwing things. Flowers, a few bucks, rubber bracelets, and roses. I tear up slightly because they love me. My act, my play, my story was told. Deep and gritty to happy and peaceful. I started to enjoy the audience, Throwing The Roses.